


Collide

by Andromytta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - It's a Terrible Life, Amnesia, Archangel Castiel (Supernatural), Destiel Reverse Bang, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Nephil Claire Novak, Some Angst (surprise), implied eating disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 22:06:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromytta/pseuds/Andromytta
Summary: Dean Smith's normal, boring, mundane life comes crashing to a halt when he witnesses his new neighbor jump from the balcony."It's a Terrible Life" universe where Castiel is an archangel, Claire is a Nephil, and Dean has no idea what he's getting himself into.





	Collide

**Author's Note:**

> The minute I saw this amazing art work for this challenge, I fell in love with it. I was immediately inspired and was simply HOPING I'd get this picture! Imagine my surprise when I found out my artist was [museaway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/museaway/pseuds/museaway)! Talk about pressure writing for this triple threat; talented artist, gifted writer, and one of the amazing mods for this challenge! Be sure to check her out and give her some love!
> 
> I stepped up to the challenge, and I hope I met it. Of course, I wouldn't stand a chance without my amazing betas, [nealinor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nealinor/pseuds/nealinor) and [witchofletters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchofletters/pseuds/witchofletters). They are both amazing and you should check them out and give them love too!
> 
> Check out the art master [post](http://www.museaway.com/post/174706968810/dean-smith-reverse-bang)!

**Prologue**

For eons, the archangel Castiel had succeeded in keeping himself hidden from his brethren. “Witness Protection,” as his brother Gabriel explained when they first left the infighting and chaos of Heaven. Things changed when he got involved with a human woman and produced an offspring. Nephilim were forbidden by the law of Heaven. Their power exceeded even that of the angels and was capable of destroying worlds. For 18 years Castiel managed to keep himself and his daughter hidden from the Heavenly Host. Then one day, he couldn’t.

Castiel found himself strapped to Naomi’s reprogramming chair, his grace and memories oozing from him like blood would from a human. But he couldn’t be bothered to worry for himself. The singular thought on his ever clouding mind was Claire. He had to get free and protect his child. That was his last thought before the darkness overtook him.

***

The angels guarding Heaven’s jail had their hands full. There was only one known way to kill a Nephil, cut out her heart. None could get close enough to Claire to even try. Ordinary Nephilim were powerful, the offspring of an archangel, more powerful still. They gave up trying to kill her and merely tried to imprison her. It didn’t take long for her to do away with her guards and escape her cell.

She followed the sound of her father’s screams to Naomi’s chamber, only to find her father’s vessel broken, bloody, and still. Naomi was standing over him twisting a large silvery pin into his head. Holding up one hand, Claire used her power to kill Naomi. She removed all the instruments of torture from Castiel’s unmoving form, but before she could even attempt to heal him, an authoritative voice sounded behind her.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Abomination. Not if you want your father to survive.”

Claire turned around quickly, her long blonde locks whipping around. She snarled at the dark haired angel. “Michael! Why would you do this? We weren’t hurting anyone. _He_ never hurt anyone!”

“You destroyed my best, my most loyal angels.”

“I wouldn’t have had to if you would have just left us alone!” Claire could have destroyed Michael as easily as she did the other angels, but her human emotions were overriding her logic. Instead of leveling him with her power, she charged at him, angel blade in hand.

Michael disappeared from where he was and was suddenly standing over Castiel, archangel blade poised above his heart. “Unless you want this blade driven into his heart here and now, you will listen to what I have to say, Abomination.”

Claire crossed her arms over her chest, angel blade still gripped tightly in her hand. “Fine. Speak. Dick.”

“It is clear that we are unable to neutralize the threat you pose to the world by either killing you or imprisoning you. So I am going to send you and Castiel,” he said the other angel’s name with a derisive sneer, “back to Earth where you will live as humans…”

She cut him off. “Oh, you mean the way we were living before you snatched us away?”

“No, not like before. You are forbidden to use your powers as you did before.”

“I was _saving her life!_ ” Claire started to protest before Michael cut her off simply by raising the blade he held over Castiel’s heart.

“You will not use your power, and Castiel will not be able to protect you this time. He will return to Earth and live amongst those-” a sneer of distaste crossed his features “-humans he loves so much. As one of them, with no memory of ever having been an angel. I only wish I could do the same to you. But be warned, Claire, if you use your powers or if Castiel discovers who you two really are, I will not hesitate to come down from Heaven and drive this blade right into his traitorous heart.”

Claire leveled steely blue eyes on the archangel. She could destroy him with a thought, but what would stop Raphael or Uriel from coming in and driving their own archangel blade into her father’s heart? If she agreed to Michael’s terms, she could save Castiel, but could never save another human ever again. And Kaia….oh, Kaia would have to stay dead.

**Columbus, Ohio (Six Months Later)**

Dean Smith stood in his kitchen downing his third (or was it his forth?) rice milk latte. He usually limited himself to one, maybe two cups of coffee a day since the caffeine made him jittery. But after last night, he needed the extra boost. His hot, new next door neighbor kept him up all night…not in the way he would have liked, unfortunately. Not that he thought about his neighbor like that. Much.  
Hot or not, his neighbor was getting on his last nerve.

Jimmy Novak and his teenaged daughter moved in a little over a month ago, and Dean hadn’t had a minute of peace since. It was bad enough they drove a rumbling beast of a car that was an absolute monstrosity for the environment, but the girl insisted on parking the 1967 Impala in two parking spaces forcing Dean to have to park his Prius on the street. When he mentioned it to her, Claire insisted that her “Baby” was a classic and needed room to breathe. He couldn’t bring himself to argue…or turn them into the condo board.

Last night, though…last night was pushing him towards his last straw. Around 9:00, as he was getting ready for bed, he heard an insistent pounding on his neighbors’ door. It had to be excessively loud for him to hear it through the walls. The pounding was followed by Linda Tran from two floors down yelling at Jimmy about the influence Claire was having on her “innocent” son. Dean snorted to himself. If only Linda knew that Kevin was the one who was stealing his Victoria Secret catalogs from his mailbox every month. In return for not telling his mom, Kevin agreed to wait and Dean would give him the old catalog when the new one came in.

Once Linda, diminutive but feisty, was finished reading Jimmy the riot act, she started in on Claire. Apparently she had convinced Kevin to get a tattoo that matched one of hers, even though Claire and Kevin had been acquainted barely six months. The extremely raucous argument lasted half the night, but boiled down, more or less, to how Claire shouldn’t force people to get permanent markings on their bodies because of her phobia and Claire insisting she was just trying to protect Kevin.

Dean didn’t care what they were arguing about. All he cared about was that it kept him from getting a good night’s sleep and now he had to double and triple up on the caffeine in order to stay awake though his work day. As he was standing at the sink, gazing sleepily out the window, imbibing his nectar of life, a shadow fell over him. When he looked up, he saw wings. His first impulse was to wonder what kind of exotic bird his neighbors had to own to encompass that kind of wingspan. He stepped out on the balcony to investigate, mostly to prove to his sleep-deprived brain that the neighbors didn’t have a pet albatross, but when he looked over at the Novaks’ balcony, he didn’t see a bird. He saw Jimmy, balancing on the guardrail, stretching his arms up to Heaven. Then, he jumped, seeming to hang in midair for a fraction of second before plummeting to the pavement six stories below.

“Sonovabitch!” Panic sent Dean racing down the stairs, to where his unusual neighbor was sprawled on the asphalt. He seemed to be breathing, and his heart was beating, though when Dean and pressed his fingers to the underside of the man’s jaw, the pulse seemed oddly quick. Upon closer inspection, he noticed very little blood pooled under Jimmy’s head. Dean didn’t know a lot about head injuries, but if Dr. Sexy, MD was even a slightly reliable source, he thought there should be a whole lot more blood. He reached into his pocket to pull out his phone so he could call 911, only to realize it was still plugged into the charger in his bedroom.

“Damn it.” He muttered under his breath. His hands fluttered uselessly about the man’s head and face. _“Damn it!”_

“Dad!” Claire came flying out the apartment building, shower wet hair streaming behind her like a golden flag. “What happened?” She bit out, shooting accusatory eyes at the man kneeling next to her father. Dean couldn’t be certain, but the girl’s eyes, already like Maldives seawater, seemed to be shining with a fiery blue glow.

Dean held up his hands in a placating manner. “I didn’t do anything, I swear! He was standing on the balcony railing, and before I could say or do anything, he jumped!”

She softened, considering Dean for a moment more before she lifted Jimmy’s head and cradled it in her lap. She started mumbling, a soft string of crooned words to herself, “No, no, Dad. Not again. Please, not again.”

She turned her face towards the sky, looking worriedly at the clouds, as if she expected a rain of holy fire from the heavens.

“Why are you just sitting there? Shouldn’t you call 911?” Dean asked, frantic.

“No!” Claire practically shouted. Calmer, she added, “We don’t need an ambulance.” She smoothed an errant lock of Jimmy’s dark hair off his forehead. “I can take care of him.”

Before Dean could protest further, and he really _really_ wanted to, Kevin Tran came out, eyes wild and half dressed. “Claire, what the hell happened? I saw, well….I _thought_ I saw your dad fall. Is he ok?” Kevin looked as if he’d realized that people flat on the pavement were generally _not_ okay, but thought better than to say anything more.

Claire looked up at him with big blue eyes, absently petting her father’s face. “Yeah, he’ll be fine. Just help me get him up to our apartment.”

Kevin nodded, and he and Claire balanced Jimmy between them, an arm on each of their shoulders.

“I can drive you to the hospital if you don’t want to call an ambulance.” Dean offered, shifting foot to foot anxiously.

“No,” she snapped. And then, softer she added, “Thank you. He doesn’t need a hospital. He’ll be fine. He just needs rest,” Claire insisted. “Besides,” she looked up to Dean with a look of mild amusement, “you’re late for work.”

Dean looked at his watch, and she was right. He was late for work. But how did she know? He didn’t have time to dwell on it now. Especially since he had to go back up to his apartment and change into a fresh pair slacks before his big meeting.

***

Claire and Kevin laid Jimmy down on the overstuffed sofa in the living room. “Are you sure we don’t need to take him to the hospital?” Kevin asked voice full of concern.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I can take care of him, I promise,” Claire assured, placing her hand on Kevin’s arm, right above the tattoo she convinced him to get the day before. The pentagram surrounded by flames that matched the one on her wrist, and Jimmy’s chest, but Kevin didn’t need to know that. Or that it was powerful warding against demonic possession. No, that was a conversation for another day.

Kevin nodded, trusting the sincerity in Claire’s eyes. “Okay. Well, tell him he doesn’t have to worry about his classes, I’ll cover them for today. And I’ll let your professors know you won’t be in classes today either.” Jimmy Novak was a professor of history at Ohio Dominican University, and Kevin was his TA. Claire was a freshman at the school.

“Thanks, Kevin. I…. I’ll see you later?”

“Of course.” Kevin slipped out the door but popped right back in to place a chaste kiss on Claire’s cheek.

“Why does this keep happening?” Claire asked, of no one in particular laying a hand on Jimmy’s forehead and wrapping her other one around the amulet she wore around her neck. The horns of the tribal mask bit into her skin as she gripped it for dear life, hoping it would continue to conceal her power from Heaven. Despite the charm and the Enochian passage tattooed on her thigh to hide her from the angels, she still used very little of her power, literally just enough to heal the immediately life-threatening injuries her father sustained from his fall. His dwindled grace saved his life, but did not protect him past that, and he would have to heal like any other human for his more minor injuries.

Castiel regained consciousness with a deep breath. “My wings. Claire, there’s something wrong with my wings!” He said, shock evident in his low grumble of a voice, eyes wide and panicky, focused in the middle-distance on something no one else could see.

“Shh, Dad. It was just a bad dream. You don’t have wings,” Claire tried to soothe, running her hand through his dark, disheveled hair.

“What are you talking about, Claire? I’m an angel. Of course I have wings. And something is wrong with them,” he insisted. His cobalt eyes widened in fear. “What is wrong with me? Claire? Claire!”

“Nothing, nothing is wrong,” Claire said, her voice low and calm, like she was soothing a wild beast. “Well, mostly nothing. You took a nasty fall and hit your head, but you’re fine now. _A bit delirious_ , she thought, not without a kernel of irritation. “But you’ll be fine after getting some rest.” She could only hope that the warding they both wore etched into their skin would be enough to protect them until she could once again convince her father that he was Jimmy Novak, human, and not Castiel, archangel.

Castiel placed one hand on his daughter’s cheek. “Claire, what’s wrong with you? Why did you tell me I don’t have wings?”

“Because you don’t, Dad. Come on, you know what your therapist told you. Your angelic delusion is a product of your grief over Mother’s death. You’re not Castiel, the archangel. You’re Jimmy Novak, human.”

“And _your_ therapist said your fear of being hunted by demons is because of the guilt you feel about your mother dying in childbirth. But they’re both wrong. I _am_ an angel, and demons _are_ hunting you.”

“I’m sorry, Dad, but I have to do this, for your own protection,” Claire practically whispered.

“Do what?” The words were barely out of his mouth before Claire put her hand back on his forehead and he was out cold. She risked using a tiny bit of her mojo again to put him to sleep and put his “memories” back in order.

***

Despite his lack of sleep and worrying about his neighbor _(Wait, what? Dean wasn’t worried about his neighbor)_ his meetings went off without a hitch. Dean Smith was a consummate professional, if nothing else, and Sandover Bridge and Iron was lucky to have him. His boss, Zachariah Adler, reminded him daily that if he worked hard enough, soon he could be Midwestern Regional Vice President. So, Dean kept his eye on the prize, even if it meant he had zero social life.

By some miracle of fate, Dean managed to leave the office right at 5:00 instead of staying past 7:00. On his way home, he decided to stop at the grocery store and pick up the ingredients for “Ellen’s Cure All Casserole,” a dish his mom was famous around Sioux Falls for making any time anyone had a divorce, a sick relative, or a death in the family. He felt compelled to make it for his neighbor, even though he wasn’t worried about him. At all.

He had the potatoes, bacon, cream, and cheddar sour cream potato chips in his basket, but couldn’t remember how many different kinds of cheese went into the casserole. He pulled out his phone and Ellen answered on the first ring.

_“Hey, Baby. How are you doing?”_

“I’m good, Mom. I just wanted to make your Cure All Casserole. But I don’t remember what kind of cheese you use.”

 _“Does that mean you’re off of that cleanse and back to eating carbs?”_ The hope in her voice made Dean cringe a bit, because he would never be off of “The Cleanse” until he got rid of the pudge that started to form around his middle.

Dean sighed before answering her question. “No, Mom. It’s not for me. It’s my neighbor. He-he-um, he fell off the balcony. I just want to make sure he and his daughter have something for dinner tonight.”

 _“New neighbor, huh?”_ The smile in her voice put one on Dean’s face. _“He cute?”_

“Maybe? I-I didn’t notice. Besides, he’s probably straight anyway.” How his mother could still make him blush at his age was beyond him.

 _“You never know someone else’s story, Son,”_ Ellen said with a chuckle. _“Now listen, you’ll need a pound of pepper jack cheese, a pound of sharp cheddar, and a pound of mozzarella. You got the potatoes, cream, and bacon, right?”_

“Yes, Mom,” Dean said, fond exasperation in his voice. “I better finish up shopping so I can get home. Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

_“Love you, too, Son. Don’t forget to call your pop this weekend. It’s his birthday.”_

“I won’t forget. Bye, Mom.”

_“Bye.”_

***

A couple of hours later, Dean found himself standing outside of his neighbor’s door, casserole in hand. He rubbed the back of his neck and dragged a hand through his hair. What was he even doing here? Just because the guy had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen and strong thighs that he – nope, he was going stop that train of thought right there. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he knocked on the door.

Dean tried to contain his shock when his neighbor, the same one he watched fall from the sixth floor, answered the door. He looked fine, in every sense of the word, in worn jeans, a well-loved AC/DC tee shirt, and bare feet. His dark hair was disheveled, and his too blue eyes narrowed in suspicion at Dean before he asked, “Can I help you?”

Dean shook himself out of his reverie at the sound of his voice. There was nothing remarkable about it, except that it came from the most beautiful lips Dean had ever seen. Also, it wasn’t quite what he had expected. He wasn’t sure why, but Dean was expecting it to be lower and rougher like velvet over pebbles. Shuffling his feet, he finally responded. “Uh, hi. I’m-um, I’m Dean Smith. I live next door. I was there when you had your-uh-accident, and I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Oh, and that you didn’t have to worry about dinner. I made a casserole.” He shoved the dish in the other man’s direction.

He accepted the dish with a sincere smile and extended his hand in greeting. “Hi. Jimmy Novak. It was very kind of you to drop by. As you can see, I’m right as rain.” He pulled the door open all the way and gestured for Dean to come in.

Dean accepted the invitation and looked around. The apartment looked cozy and lived in, despite the Novaks only being there a less than half a year. It certainly seemed homier than his own place, even though the floor plan was the same. As he took in his surroundings, he couldn’t help the words that came out of his mouth.

“How are you, um, ‘right as rain’ anyway? I saw you, uh, fall. Six stories. And no one called an ambulance or anything.”

Jimmy smiled at him. “It was my daughter. Claire. She’s very into homeopathic healing. And it works, as you can see.” He walked into the kitchen as he spoke and set the casserole dish on the counter.

As if on cue, at the sound of her name, or maybe the smell of food, Claire appeared. The first thing she noticed was the visitor. “What are you doing here, Hasselhoff?”

Dean flinched, momentarily taken aback by her sass before he responded in kind. “Whoa, chill out, Miley Cyrus. I brought dinner. I didn’t think you’d have time to cook, what with miraculously healing your dad and whatnot.”

“Claire, be nice to Dean. He saved you from having to endure my cooking.” Jimmy said.

She rolled her eyes, but said, “Fine.” She turned to Dean. “Thank you. What’s for dinner?”

“Oh, um, it’s Ellen’s Cure All Casserole,” Dean replied.

“Funny, you don’t look like an Ellen,” Claire said.

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Ellen is my mom. She swears by this recipe. Everyone in Sioux Falls can expect this whenever they have an ailment.”

“See, Claire, that was very nice of Dean, wasn’t it?” Jimmy said before turning to Dean. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“Oh, um, no. I made that for you guys. Besides, I don’t really eat that kind of thing anymore. I’m, um, I’m on the Honolulu Cleanse. No carbs, no dairy, certainly no bacon…”

Jimmy raked his eyes up and down Dean’s silhouette. “Why would you need to shy away from any food? You seem to be in fine form to me.” He cleared his throat. “Besides, you should enjoy the fruits of your labor. I’m sure we can put together a salad or something as well.”

Was Jimmy flirting with him? Was Mr. Sex on Legs actually flirting with regular dude Dean Smith? When Dean glanced over to see Claire with her face buried in her hands, it seemed to confirm that, indeed, her dad was flirting with him. “Um, sure, yeah, that sounds nice. I’d like to stay.” He managed to stutter out. Although for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what this magnificent creature saw in him.

***

When Jimmy had regained consciousness after his accident, he did not expect the evening to turn out the way it did. Now, he found himself having a delicious dinner with Claire, the light of his life, and his neighbor, Dean, who happened to be the most attractive person he had met in a very, very long time. He barely dared to think that maybe he and Claire finally found their place in the world.

***

Dean had been invited to the Novaks’ for dinner every night that week. Regardless of his better judgement, he accepted every night, much to the detriment of his diet. Sometimes Jimmy would cook, and despite his self-deprecating humor turned out to be pretty decent in the kitchen. Sometimes Claire would cook, and she was an even better cook than her dad. But it didn’t matter who prepared the meal, the Novaks certainly had a thing for red meat and carbs, and Dean’s cleanse (and his waistline) were taking the hit.

Saturday found him standing in front of his full length mirror in nothing but his boxer briefs as he got ready for his date with Jimmy.

It was their first real date. They figured out Wednesday night that perhaps they were going about things the wrong way, having the family dinners before even having a date for just the two of them. Dean was tempted to cancel. To him, his belly felt softer and pudgier after a week’s worth of rich, fatty, carb filled dinners. His clothes didn’t really feel any tighter, but when he poked his stomach, the jiggle would have made Jello proud. Deciding that since it was the first date, they wouldn’t be getting naked anyway, Dean got dressed. He avoided his many pairs of skinny jeans and instead opted for a comfortable pair of loose fit boot cuts and a hunter green button down that brought out his eyes. He left the shirt untucked as an extra layer of protection. Dean was determined that he would go back on his cleanse and workout routine starting tomorrow and get himself fit enough to be worthy of Jimmy’s affection. He steeled himself with a sigh and went next door to pick up his date.

Jimmy insisted on driving, and even though it was a monstrosity that had to be horrific for the environment, Dean felt quite comfortable and at home next to this man in the Impala. They went to a steakhouse, where Dean paid for dinner, even though he only had a tiny salad and sparkling water. Jimmy once again questioned why Dean needed to watch what he ate.

“It’s a sedentary lifestyle, my friend,” he said by way of explanation.

Jimmy narrowed his eyes. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, Dean.” His voice dropped an octave and took on a quality not unlike silk over gravel. Dean thought it suited him better.

When they made it back to the apartment building, they stood outside of Dean’s door making out for what felt like forever, but not long enough. Dean was about to invite Jimmy in when the door to the apartment next door opened.

“You’re past your curfew, old man!” Claire said with a giggle, effectively throwing cold water on the proceedings.

“I suppose I should go.” Jimmy’s voice still had that growling quality to it that was, quite frankly, driving Dean mad.

“You could come in.” Dean offered.

Jimmy chuckled in reply. “And how long do you think it will take for Claire to start playing death metal and banging on the wall?”

“Point taken. I suppose you should get home then,” Dean said, glowering.

“I’ll see you later, Dean,” Jimmy rasped, placing a final, firm kiss to Dean’s pout before heading into his own apartment.

***

The past couple of months were magical for Jimmy. Every time Jimmy touched Dean, he felt sparks prickle underneath his skin. And when they kissed, forget about it. It was like an explosion of holy light within his very core. He was falling hard and fast and he wanted…no…needed _more_. They’d been going out every Saturday night, and no matter what, he could not make it past the threshold into Dean’s apartment. More often than not, Claire would interrupt them at the door and he would have no choice but to return to his own apartment. Occasionally, though, Dean himself would call their make out sessions to a halt and never invite him in. Jimmy couldn’t understand the man’s insecurity. In his mind, Dean Smith was the most gorgeous person he had ever met. He would get through that door someday. Jimmy Novak was nothing if not determined.

***

Claire was conflicted. As happy as she was that her dad finally had something in his life that didn’t revolve around her, the changes she was seeing in him gave her pause. When he came home after his latest date with Dean, (which she did not interrupt this time, trying to usher her own date back to his home) Castiel’s wings were a high and proud shadow over his shoulders. _Angel mating dance, ew,_ she thought to herself. The most surprising thing was that _he didn’t even notice_.

It seemed that as her father’s feelings for Dean grew, so did his angelic grace, while at the same time, his angelic memories grew fainter. He was becoming more entrenched in his life as Jimmy Novak the closer he got to the other human. But as much as Claire wanted to encourage her father to pursue his relationship with Dean, at the same time she was terrified of what would happen if they took the step to cement their emotional and physical bond.

***

The next month passed in quite the same way and Jimmy was, frankly, tired of the sassy blonde cockblock. He did what he had to do to keep Claire away from the apartment building so that he could finally end his date on the other side of Dean’s door.

Currently, he had Dean pressed against said door. Their lips were locked and their hands were _everywhere_. Their legs were entangled and Jimmy just started to grind against Dean when the other man broke their heated kisses to look towards the apartment next door.

Dean raised an eyebrow and simply asked, “Claire?”

“I gave Kevin Tran tickets to a concert in Lancaster and told him to take Claire. They should be gone all night,” Jimmy replied, his voice deep and husky with need.

“You’d let your kid stay out all night with her boyfriend just to get into my pants?” Dean half-chuckled, half-gasped.

Jimmy fisted his hands in Dean’s shirt, tilted his head and squinted his eyes at him. “I would do anything for you Dean. I want to show you how much you mean to me. Please, let me in.” Jimmy’s voice dripped with honey and double meanings. “I need you.”

“Yeah,” He fought to catch a breath, insecurities and new confidence battling. “Okay,” Dean nodded and scrambled to open the door.

Inside the apartment, they made quick work of stripping each other on the way to the bedroom. Dean’s shirt lay abandoned on the kitchen counter, one shoe kicked off into the living room, the other skidded over the carpet and stopped in the hallway. Jimmy’s button down was in a crumpled heap just outside the bedroom door and two pairs of jeans discarded just inside. Once there, when he had Dean laid out on the bed before him in all his naked glory, Jimmy took his time worshipping the man.

He laid lips gently on the pulse point in Dean’s neck, the same spot where Dean had so tenderly checked for a heartbeat when he’d soared off the balcony. Dean hissed in a breath, the gentleness foreign.

He kissed him all over, whispering praises against his skin, telling him how beautiful and perfect he was. It wasn’t long before Dean was squirming not only with need, but discomfort at the praise. None of his other lovers had treated him with such tenderness before, or with such love.

Jimmy’s caresses were met with mewls of need, Dean arching up to him with abandon. When it came to preparing him, Jimmy took his time, massaging the puckered spot with slick fingers. Dean cried out, a sharp gasp and a curse. Jimmy hummed contentedly, nuzzling his nose into the crease of his hip and thigh, high on his scent and the softness of his skin. Jimmy dug his fingers into the padding over Dean’s hip bones, the thickness Dean saw as a personal downfall purely erotic to him. He was practically begging for Jimmy to touch him, fuck him, but no words came out, just whines and moans. Jimmy’s blue eyes darkened with lust before sliding home into him.

They moved together, gazes locked on each other. When they climaxed, Dean only moments before Jimmy, everything changed. Outside the window, lightning crashed. All over the apartment, light bulbs sparked and burst. Jimmy raised up onto his knees and howled and the room was filled with the shadow of large, elegant wings.

It was several minutes before Dean recovered from his post-orgasmic haze.

“Jimmy, that was…” he started before he took in the other man’s appearance. “Are those wings or did you fuck me into oblivion and I’m hallucinating?”

He lay down next to Dean and pressed kisses into his shoulder. “Dean,” he started his voice rough, “There is...so much I need to tell you. The first is that my name isn’t Jimmy.” He paused, steeling himself. “It’s Castiel and I’m an angel of the Lord.”

Before he could explain further, someone cleared their throat and spoke from the end of the bed. “Castiel, I should have known I’d find you in bed with yet another human.”

“Michael, you stay away from him. He has nothing to do with this. In fact, if you hadn’t erased my memories, I wouldn’t be here with him at all.”

“Jimmy, what the actual hell is going on?” Dean asked, clutching the bedcover up against his chest. His eyes were wide and panicky. He was barely comfortable with Jimmy….Castiel? Whatever. And now, he’s got a fucking audience?

Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s cheek. “I promise, I will explain everything. Later. Right now, I need get you somewhere safe.” He pressed two fingers to Dean’s forehead and the man disappeared from sight.

“Always protecting them to the detriment of your own well-being. Typical.” Michael drew his blade and advanced on the other man.

Castiel manifested his own blade and jumped out of bed with the grace and skill of a seasoned warrior, nude, though the room was darkened considerably by his wings, now unfurled. “I will not let you hurt the ones I love again.”

The fight was brutal and bloody, without the grace of a choreographed fight scene, spit and sweat flying, both angels knowing where to strike the other for maximum damage. Michael struck the first blow, slicing Castiel’s side right below the Enochian tattoo on his ribs. Castiel struck back by stabbing Michael in the shoulder, the stiletto blade of the angel’s weapon driving into the muscle with a sickening squelch. They moved around the room in a practiced dance, brothers who had sparred with one another from the beginning of time. Michael struck Castiel in the thigh, twisting the blade with an evil snarl lifting his lips, knocking Castiel against the wall, his full weight collapsing onto the wounded leg, angel blade skittering across the floor, coming to rest uselessly in the pile of denim just inside the door. Castiel was pinned in the corner, naked and cowering, when Michael raised his blade to strike his final blow.

“I don’t _want_ to kill you, brother. But that doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy it.” A frightening light began to emanate from Michael’s eyes, a searing blue. Before he drove his seraph blade home, the light flared, blinding. Michael jerked and Castiel threw his arms up in front of his face, bracing himself for the endless darkness and eternal sleep that awaited him.

He heard the blade slice into flesh, ripping and tearing, a deafening roar and shrill tone filling the room until his eyes watered with the cacophony.

And then nothing. Nothing but darkness.

“Ji….Cas-Castiel? Castiel!” His name sounded so sweet from Dean’s lips, he thought. Angels get a heaven after all. “Cas, goddammit, _please_ …”

The ringing in his ears subsided and Castiel forced himself to lower his arms and open his eyes. Before him, was Dean, in loose fitting blue jeans and the AC/DC shirt he’d been wearing the first day his green-eyed neighbor came by. Castiel stared at him in wonder. He was pale, lips bloodless and eyes wild. Blood and swirls of silver blue stained his hand; the golden blade fell from it and rolled away. Scorched up the walls and over the window shade was an imprint of once magnificent wings. More blood tinged with white streaks of light pooled under the supine form of the now empty vessel. His front was unmarked, Dean having plunged the blade into the archangel’s heart from behind.

“You….can’t have done that… You-you’re _human!_ ” It seemed impossible, but Castiel’s grace was smeared over Dean’s palms along with the red smears of his blood.

“One advantage humans have over angels, they’re willing to fight dirty.”

His gloating was short lived. Michael had gotten in several near-fatal strikes. Castiel slumped in the corner, bleeding blood and grace. Dean refrained from panicking, knowing all he had to do was get him just down the hall to Claire. Claire fixed his fatal injuries before, surely she could do it again.Dean looped one of Castiel’s arms around his shoulders, ready to walk through fire to bring him to safety. Suddenly, another man was standing before them, blade raised, poised for the kill shot, another angel sent to eradicate this perceived threat. It never came. This angel’s vessel appeared to be burned from the inside out, spectacular rays of light streaming from his eyes and mouth. He dropped, revealing Claire standing there, the only being powerful enough to smite an archangel.

Having dispatched the threat, she kneeled next to her father, placing a hand on his cheek and letting her power flow into him, healing his wounds. “There, all better. Now will you please put some pants on?” Claire said by way of greeting.

As he was pulling his boxers on, he looked in her direction, squinting. “How did you know?”

“Same way they did,” she indicated the bodies on the floor, “I felt it when your grace was restored. And no, I absolutely do _not_ want to know what caused it.” She cast a look at Dean. “Although, naked Hasselhoff poofing into the living room would have been a pretty good indicator, too. No wonder you gave Kevin those concert tickets.”

“Claire?”

“Yes Dad?”

“Where’s Kevin?”

She looked down at the floor, at least having the manners to look sheepish as she responded. “Oh, um, well, I shoved him onto the balcony in the name of romance when the surprise guest popped in. Guess I should get back.”

“Probably. But be careful. You know we’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Yeah. Raphael is still out there.” Claire looked around the room, suddenly realizing Dean was there, hands bloody. “Wait, you did this? Some human.” She sounded suitably impressed.

Dean shrugged, unused to the praise.

“Oh,” was the last thing she said before waving and disappearing.

***

**Epilogue (Six Months Later)**

  
Dean was lying in Cas’s bed, wrapped around the other man. “I still can’t believe I’m dating an angel. An actual angel.”

“Dean, you know I wouldn’t have kept it from you…”

Dean sat up. “Cas, I know. Those dick bags wiped your memory. Although I can’t say that I’m entirely upset about it. I mean, if you knew who you were, you wouldn’t have met me, right?”

“Well, it’s possible we would have met. But no, I probably wouldn’t have gotten close to you. No matter how much I was drawn to you. I never meant to put you in danger.” Cas sat up next to him and sighed. “And now you’re still in danger. Raphael is still out there.”

“Yeah, but you and Claire can kick his feathery ass. I’m not worried.” Dean smiled, and all was right with Castiel’s world.

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna, check me out on Tumbler! [Andromytta](http://andromytta.tumblr.com/)


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